


Trapped (or Shades of Bolivia)

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:49:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lads in Danger, again</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped (or Shades of Bolivia)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tea & Swiss Roll Weekly Obbo (prompts Weave, Radar)

With shards of concrete raining down on him and bullets chipping away the concrete wall he was using for support, Bodie realized he might be in some trouble. 

He had watched Ray weave his way through the bullets and debris in the alley behind the “Kingsland Café”, trying to stay under the villain’s radar, but after a barrage of gun fire, he’d lost sight of his partner.

Pain bloomed in his shoulder at the same time he found himself being tumbled to the dirt.

“Oi,” he protested, “You’ve likely bruised my finest assets!”

“I’ll bruise more than your bloody arse,” Doyle hissed, “Keep your head down.”

A hand captured the back of Bodie’s neck and forced his head down into a blood splattered lap.

“Not the time or the place for this, petal,” Bodie choked out. The hand left his neck and slapped him lightly on the back of his head.

“Berk.”

The air was rent by the sound of more gun shots.

“Back-up’s late,” Ray observed.

“Er… maybe a problem there, Ray.” Bodie tried to sit up but was pushed back down into Ray’s lap. 

“Problem?” Ray uttered with a touch of sarcasm, “Really?”

“I didn’t get to finish my call in, now did I, before the bullets started flying.” 

Doyle groaned and sucked in a shaky breath. 

A spasm of pain grabbed Bodie’s shoulder. He pushed his head into Ray’s leg to ride it out.

When he could speak again, he said, “I did make initial contact with HQ. Maybe that will be enough..” His voice faltered when he felt warm liquid spread beneath the cheek pressed into Ray’s lap.

“Uh, Ray…”

Another light tap to the back of his head is followed by a hollow laugh. “It’s not what you think, mate. Bullet took a bite out of me leg. Just a graze, I think. Must’ve re-opened it when I tumbled you.”

“Tumbled? You never…”

Ray’s glare silenced him.

“Let’s have a look see, shall we?”

Bodie moved and bullets tore into the wall above his head. He threw himself back down onto Doyle.

“Maybe we’ll wait a bit…”

Ray nodded and shook his head. Concrete chips dropped out of his hair onto Bodie. He raised a hand to his face and wasn’t surprised to find it bloody. 

“How many out there, do you think?” Bodie asked.

“All of them.”

“Ray…”

“I counted five. I think I may have taken one out. I wouldn’t bet on it though.”

“What happened? How did we get caught short?”

“Short? Speak for yourself, mate!”

More bullets split the air around them.

“Persistent buggers.”

Bodie carefully pulled himself to a sitting position and leaned against Ray’s shoulder. 

They turned to each other at the same time. Bodie raised a hand to wipe blood from Ray’s face. 

“You look terrible, mate.”

Mischief flared in Ray’s eyes.

“You’re not lookin’ quite so tall, dark or beautiful yourself just now.”

Bodie let out a deep laugh. “Like Butch and Sundance, yeah?”

They re-loaded their weapons. Quiet settled ominously around them.

Ray gave him a cheeky grin. “Hopin’ for a slightly better outcome, old son.”

“On three.” Hands moved up and down, fingers extended and Ray winced at the result. Bodie smirked. Ray shrugged and slowly crawled away from Bodie and the sheltering wall. He rolled towards the dust bin across the pavement. Shots followed him. Bodie, taking advantage of the distraction Ray provided, moved into a position to pin the gunmen firing at Ray. Two quick shots saw two men drop, but he’d revealed himself. A bullet took him in the already wounded shoulder and spun him around. Ray’s shout of denial faded in his ears as Bodie lost consciousness.

Ray moved towards his fallen partner. Bullets kicked up the dirt by his feet. He kept moving. Gunshots from the front of the café brought a mad grin to his face. Help had arrived. He heard Anson directing agents to be careful, warning them that he and Bodie were holed up somewhere nearby. Wouldn’t it be ironic to survive the gun runners, only to be dispatched by their own gang? 

There were a few more shots fired and then Cowley’s voice rang out telling everyone to stand down. 

“Doyle? Bodie?” Anson’s voice echoed in the now silent alley. 

“Here.” Ray shouted back. “We need an ambulance.”

“On the way.”

Ray crouched down next to Bodie and pulled him into his lap. Feeling a strong pulse under the fingers he placed on Bodie’s neck, he released his fear in a shaky breath. Looking at the unconscious man resting in his lap Ray wondered, and not for the first time, how this private, exasperating, hard, irascible, easy-going, and caring man had been able to weave his way into his life.

“We live to tell the tale again, Butch,” he quietly whispered to the bundle of contradictions in his arms.


End file.
